


apricot eyes

by afire



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/F, and i have no shame in admitting that, journalist!riley and artist!maya, met in paris au, soft n' fluffy, this is inspired by that one photo sabrina posted, this was also self-indulgent to the max
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afire/pseuds/afire
Summary: Riley goes to Paris, finds a girl, and falls in love, exactly in that order.





	apricot eyes

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for [Janelle](http://amysanatigo.tumblr.com), thank you for always being my biggest fan!
> 
> Before you start reading, I'd like you to take a look at [these](http://eclipses.co.vu/post/172433980824) photos for a visual of the scenes in this.
> 
> And I would highly encourage you to listen to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_D-fj5so5U) song while you read for the full effect.

The café is quiet, and peaceful, and almost feels like a dream.

In fact, Riley isn't positive she's not dreaming. She's seated outside under a quaint little umbrella, the early autumn breeze teasing at the tendrils of hair that have escaped her ponytail. In the distance, she can see the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower, and the scene looks like it was taken straight out of a vintage photograph, coloured in sepia, shaded in dreams.

Unfortunately, she's knocked out of her reverie by someone tapping her gently on the shoulder and proceeding to speak in rapid French.

Riley's focus is immediately split down the middle, the rational half of her brain lamenting the fact that even though she's on exchange in Paris, she's still unable to speak a lick of French, and the other half completely shutting down.

Because the person who's commandeered her attention is, undoubtedly, the most beautiful girl Riley has ever seen.

"Uh," she says, because she's never really figured out how to talk around pretty girls.

The stranger laughs, light and airy, and Riley almost checks to see if there's a chorus of angels behind her, half-expecting them to be singing in harmony.

"English?" She asks, a hint of amusement colouring her tone as she pulls out the chair next to Riley and takes a seat.

"Yes, sorry," Riley says, a little sheepishly, still not quite over the fact that she could've picked up French in high school and at least been semi-fluent but instead chose to use her free period as a chance to catch up on homework.

Yeah, she's really regretting it now.

"That's alright, I've just been here so many years that I default to French whenever I start a conversation." The pretty girl leans forward, eyes bright. "Hi, my name's Maya, I was just wondering if I could get your help with a project I'm doing?"

Riley blinks, a little thrown for a loop. Maya's English is as smooth as her French was, and the more she talks, the more Riley recognises the signature New York accent that she's learned to associate with home.

"Are you from New York?" She asks on impulse, completely disregarding Maya's question. When she realizes what she's done, Riley backtracks immediately. "I mean- I'm sorry, uh, what kind of project?"

Maya laughs again, and Riley decides there and then that she'd do anything to be able to listen to that sound for the rest of her life.

"Yes, I was born in New York," Maya says, "moved here a couple of years ago."

"Oh, that's so cool! Were you always fluent in French?"

"I'd learned a bit in school, but living here and having to use it every day is nothing compared to classes."

Riley nods along, unconsciously trying to find ways to prolong the conversation. It's not every day you go to Paris on exchange and somehow find yourself talking to a gorgeous girl.

Maya saves her.

"So, the project." She reaches into her bag for something, pulling out what looks to be a sketchbook. "I'm an artist," she explains, and Riley thinks it really isn't fair. Pretty girl, fluent in French, and an _artist?_ God, shoot her in the heart.

"I have something of an offer," Maya continues, looking like she's trying to find the right words, "to do an exhibition? An art exhibition, I mean, in a museum. They're doing a special on aspiring young artists, and I just got the letter today."

Riley listens intently, and can't help but feel excited for this girl that she's just met. "That sounds great! What do you need me to do?"

"Well, they said I could do anything I want, you know? Complete freedom with materials and medium and all that, but I'm not sure what I want to do, exactly, and usually I'd default to my usual style but this is, kind of important? I don't want to treat it like any other thing." Maya shrugs, and for the first time since they've started talking, she looks a little nervous, and Riley wants nothing more than to chase that feeling away.

"Anyway." Maya shakes her head, as if to reorganize her thoughts. "I was walking past and I saw you sitting there and, I was just wondering, would you let me sketch you?"

"Sketch me?"

"Yes," Maya smiles wryly, "you're very photogenic, and I've found that drawing what feels right always works out."

Riley doesn't have to look into a mirror to know she's blushing furiously. "Um, I guess? Sure, you can sketch me."

Maya grins, wide and unrestrained. "Thank you! Are you free right now? If not I can give you my number and we can meet up some other time?"

"Oh, I've got nothing on today, so we can do it now!" Riley fidgets around, trying to find a comfortable position. "Um, do you want me to sit a certain way?"

"Oh, no, it's fine." Maya's got a pencil in her hand and she's currently flipping through her sketchbook to find an empty page. Riley catches glimpses of other sketches, some of the horizon, and even one of a cat. "You don't even have to sit still, just do whatever."

And so Riley picks up her iced tea, trying not to seem too self-conscious. She's well aware that she's moving around a lot more than she usually would, and maybe Maya can tell, because, ten minutes later, she speaks up.

"So, why are you in France?"

"I'm on exchange!" Riley swirls her straw around her half-empty glass, needing somewhere to expend her energy. "My major lets me do a term abroad as long as I write a paper detailing my experiences, so I'm just here to soak in the culture, I guess."

"What do you major in?"

"Journalism! I know it sounds boring, but it's actually pretty cool! I don't have a lot of contact hours here because they really want me to go out and explore, you know? So I have lots of free time to just wander around and gather inspiration for my essay."

"Is it like a diary of sorts?" Maya asks, and Riley can tell she's still paying attention even though her gaze is trained on the paper in front of her.

"Something like that, except I'll probably write it more formally, like a reflection, or a travel journal. My professor says I don't even have to turn it in, if it gets too personal, I just have to show him that I wrote something."

"I'm sure it'll be amazing! I bet you're a great writer, I can tell."

"How?" Riley rocks forward, balancing on the edge of her seat. "Is it an artist thing? Do you just … know?"

Maya huffs out a laugh. "No, you just sound very eloquent."

 

*****

 

_Paris is not what I thought it would be, but then again, hardly anything ever is._

_It’s early Autumn, and I'm sitting in a tiny café on the corner of a deserted street, just people-watching. Everyone here is so vibrant, I've been trying to see if I can guess what someone's like just from looking at their clothes._

_Like, the guy with the dark red beret, where is he rushing to? Maybe he's late to an appointment, or the store is closing and he needs to get some milk for tomorrow's breakfast. And, the lady with the light blue coat, where is she going? She's got a cute bicycle, so maybe she's finding somewhere to park it, or maybe she's just walking it home._

_There were a bunch of kids about half an hour ago, they all had these really bright galoshes and they were splashing around in puddles on the side of the road. They were yelling pretty loudly, in French so I couldn't understand them, but I could sort of tell what was going on, because kids everywhere sort of talk the same. They were singing a song, probably a nursery rhyme, and discussing some new movie that they'd watched._

_I didn't think anything much was going to happen during my first week here, because that's how my life usually goes. Interesting things don't happen until I stop waiting for them to happen._

_But, hey, it's Paris, apparently the usual rules don't apply here._

_I keep coming to the same café, maybe because Maya frequents this area, but that's between you and me. I don't know if she just hangs around waiting for me to show up, but I'm not going to complain._

_We usually just sit and talk while she sketches. I keep asking to see the results but she always says she's not done yet. I'm not sure how long sketching takes but I think maybe at this point she's just making fun of me._

_It doesn't matter, though, I don't really mind. Maya's funny, and charming, and she always seems so interested in what I have to say. I think I'm going to ask her to show me around, since she's been here a couple years and definitely knows the place better than me._

 

*****

 

Riley does actually end up giving Maya her number, if only so she has someone to text while she's here and doesn't waste the money she spent on an unlimited phone plan.

Or, at least, that's what she's telling herself.

Either way, Maya texts to ask if she wants to take a walk by the Seine and Riley almost falls over in her haste to reply. Take a walk by the Seine? With a pretty girl? Yes, please.

Maya is waiting for her by the café, because it's sort of turned into their unofficial meeting spot, and Riley thinks, as always, that she looks unfairly good in the watery sunlight, all soft edges and never-ending curves and shining golden hair.

She needs to get a hold of herself.

"Hey!"

"Riley," Maya says, pocketing her phone with a smile. Her voice is gentle, and lilting, and no one has ever said Riley's name like that before, but she finds that she likes it very much. "Ready to go?"

"Definitely." Riley considers extending her hand, but she's unsure if they've reached a point in their friendship where physical contact can be initiated without prior consent.

Maya seems to sense her hesitation, because she casually reaches out to link their arms, then tugs them both in the direction of the Seine. Riley stumbles, having not quite grown out of tripping over her own feet yet, but Maya steadies her easily, and they fall into step as if they've been walking together all their lives.

**...**

It is, evidently, tourist season. The queue for the boat ride is a mile long, and Maya has to pull them both through the growing crowd at the ticket booth, trying her hardest not to bump into anyone as they all jostle for a spot.

Riley decides that the other side of the river will be much more peaceful, and a more conducive environment for having a quiet conversation, so she directs them toward one of the many bridges. Maya follows along without complaint, humming a little tune under her breath as they walk.

"When did this start to be a thing?" Riley nods to indicate all the locks that have been attached to the railings of the bridge, tangible reminders that other people have been here, that other people have loved here, and maybe still do.

"I'm not sure," Maya replies, sounding wistful as she looks toward the water, "though I like to think it's been happening forever."

Riley is silent for a moment, and they both sit down on a bench in the middle of the bridge. "Because people have always been falling in love?"

Maya's in the process of crossing her legs underneath her, and she makes herself comfortable before speaking up again. "Yeah," she says, and when she turns to look at Riley, the expression on her face is indiscernible, "because people have always been falling in love."

 

*****

 

_Call me a dreamer, but I've always believed in destiny, and being in the city of love just brings out the optimist in me. Two people meet because they were always supposed to meet, at that time, and in that place._

_I think I was always supposed to come on this exchange, it was decided a long, long time ago, even before I knew I could apply for it. I was always supposed to be in Paris, right here, right now, writing a journal about my experiences._

_I was always supposed to meet Maya._

_Because, and I say this with utmost sincerity, I have only known her for thirteen days, but I cannot imagine a life without her._

_It feels like I have known her forever, and I know coming to Paris was about stepping into my own, but Maya feels like such a part of me now that I am going to choose to believe that being around her is making me a better person._

_Autumn has always been the season for letting things go, for throwing your regrets into a bonfire and telling yourself that it is time to move on, but I can't help but want to do the exact opposite._

_I want something to begin, it feels like something should begin, and there is an energy in the air that I have never felt before, I want to see what I can do with it._

 

*****

 

Riley is the one who suggests driving out of the city, eyes bright as she produces a map from one of the many pockets of her coat and drops it onto the table between them.

Maya looks up from her sketchbook and eyes the folded piece of paper sceptically, tapping her pencil against the side of her jaw as she thinks. "Where would we go?"

Riley, who's distracted because her eyes were drawn to the movement, lingering for a while, tracing the curve of Maya's cheekbone, all the way up to the warm blue of her eyes, doesn't quite catch the question, and has to blink in confusion for a couple of seconds before taking a wild guess at an appropriate answer.

"Anywhere?" She says, shrugging in what she hopes is nonchalance. "Let's go somewhere we can see the stars."

And, if it's even possible, Maya softens, shoulders dropping as she puts down her pencil. "I like the sound of that."

Riley thinks that maybe Maya's been stressing a little too much about that exhibit she's getting ready for, the one that she doesn't like to talk about, even though she's never without her sketchbook, and her pencil is always behind her ear, ready to be retrieved at a moment's notice.

They haven't really talked much about what they did before they met, and Riley isn't quite sure how long Maya has been in Paris, or what she was up to in the years she's been here, but she sees a little of herself in the other girl. There is the same, desperate desire to succeed, to take as much as you can from life, and to be able to look at the people who said you'd never amount to anything and show them that you did.

There is something about Maya that screams of heartbreak, of a girl destined for tragedy, because here she is, all dreamy and wonderful, with stars in her eyes and hope in her heart, and all the world wants to do is take that away. Because the world can be endlessly cruel, taking beautiful girls with beautiful souls and running them ragged, tearing the brightness from their smiles and leaving nothing but sadness behind.

But the world can also be endlessly kind, because the world has given Riley the chance to know Maya, to make sure that the excitement that leaks from her voice whenever she's talking about art will never disappear, to hold her hand and look her in the eye and tell her to never, ever give up, because hope is not for suckers, and she is going to get everything she wants in life.

Riley doesn't say any of this, but somehow she thinks Maya knows, from the way she's grinning, all crooked and happy, the glasses that she wears whenever her eyes get tired sliding off the end of her nose.

"Let's stop for ice cream on the way," Maya says, meaning _'thank you'_.

"I want strawberry," Riley replies, meaning _'anytime'_.

**...**

By the time they're on the road, Riley's finished with her cone and is fiddling with the radio in hopes of finding a station that plays music she recognises.

"Oh, hold on." Maya reaches out to still her hand, pulling it away from the controls. "I like this song."

Riley sits back, content to watch as her friend hums along, steadily getting louder as the song progresses.

 _"C'est ça, l'amour, le grand amour,"_ Maya's voice is soft, sweet, and achingly lovely. She's spoken French around Riley before, whenever they order food or have to speak to a local, but this is different. The lilt that's always present in her voice is accentuated when she sings, and Riley knows, without a doubt, that this is a love song. _"L'amour qui fait chanter la vie_."

The melody transitions into a ballad-esque instrumental breakdown, and Riley wants to ask what song this is, but tells herself to wait until the end, lest her question causes Maya to stop singing.

There's something that feels distinctly magical about this moment, and Riley wants it to last as long as possible, because the road is wide and open in front of them, Paris disappearing into the background, and Riley's entire world is Maya; the warm timbre of her voice and the wistfulness in her expression, almost as if she's hoping for something that she knows she cannot have.

_"Là dans tes bras, je sais déjà, que mon bonheur est infini."_

**...**

They don't actually stop driving until the sun begins to set, but Riley doesn't really mind, deciding that if she could be driving into the nothingness with anyone, it would be with Maya, who doesn't actually stop singing, because apparently the channel they've found keeps playing songs she knows. Riley definitely doesn't have any complaints.

Eventually, it starts getting dark, so they slow down next to a big, empty field, devoid of life save for the large tree that's about a three minute walk away. Riley gets out of the car, stretching up onto the tips of her toes and sighing as her shoulders pop. When she turns around, Maya is looking at her over the hood of the car.

"What?" Riley lets her arms drop, swaying toward the car and leaning against the door. "Did we drive too far?"

Maya shrugs and shakes her head at the same time. "I don't think it matters," she says, and then she's coming around to Riley's side, taking her hand and tugging her toward the field. "Hey, Riles?"

"Yeah?" Riley asks, pretending that the casual use of the nickname that Maya's coined for her doesn't make her feel all nice and tingly on the inside.

Unfortunately, that means she completely misses the cheeky grin that Maya is now wearing, and so is caught completely off-guard when the other girl yells, "race you!" before shooting off toward the tree.

"Hey!" Riley's mind reacts before her body does, and it takes a couple of seconds for her to recalibrate and run after Maya. She's not exactly the best runner, but Riley does have longer legs, so she manages to catch up to the other girl right as they make it to the tree. "I didn't come to Paris to do physical activity," she huffs, hands on her knees and trying to catch her breath.

Maya laughs, and the sound is rich and warm in the cool darkness of fast approaching night. "What did you come to Paris for, then?"

Riley wants to say 'you' but knows she can't, and so compensates with, "I wanted to try something new."

"I get that." Maya pulls lightly on her arm, and then they're nestled together underneath the tree, watching as the sun dips below the horizon.

"Why did you come to Paris? I mean, how long have you been here?"

"A couple years, I've stopped counting." There's a beat of silence before Maya continues speaking. "I'm not exactly sure why I'm here," she says, "but I do love it. City of art, you know? City of love. It's not like I'm ever short on inspiration for my drawings."

"Like when you asked to sketch me?"

Maya turns, and even in the low light, Riley can see that she's grinning wryly, mouth pulled to the side as if she's laughing at some inside joke that no one else understands.

"Yeah, like when I asked to sketch you."

Night falls faster in the countryside, where there isn't any artificial light to prolong the day, and it doesn't take long before the sun is completely gone, replaced with the shining essence of the moon and more stars than Riley has ever seen in her entire life.

New York is the city that never sleeps, and, truth be told, Riley doesn't often have time to just sit outside to stargaze. She's often busy in her room, writing yet another essay, or proofing an article, so being here, it's like a breath of fresh air for her mind. The sky is dark, so blue it's almost black, but the stars are magnificent, stretching across the wide expanse of night, almost as if there's no end to them.

Riley spends so long looking up that she doesn't realize Maya's calling her name until the other girl taps her gently on the side of her head.

"Hm?"

Maya leans in, so close that Riley would just need to tilt forward a little, just a little, and then-

"Riley."

"Yeah?"

"We need to go back."

"Do we really?" It's nice out here, away from everything else, Riley wants to stay forever, as long as she's got Maya by her side.

"Yes, really." Maya sounds amused, though she does sit up and rub at her eyes, as if she had been close to falling asleep. "Let's get you home, _ma chéri._ "

 

*****

 

_I have not been alive for very long, even though it feels like I have, sometimes, but I thought I knew what being happy felt like._

_Because everyone thinks they know what being happy feels like, but I was wrong, I didn't, not 'til now._

_I didn't know what being happy felt like until I was in the middle of nowhere with a girl I'd just met, and she sang me a love song I didn't understand. I didn't know what being happy felt like until she drove me home even though it was two in the morning and waited in the driveway until I was safely inside. I didn't know what being happy felt like until Maya._

_Maybe it's being far away from New York, alone in a country I'd only ever dreamed about, but that's just one part of it, I think. I feel like I've always known Maya, in one way or another, meeting her felt like coming home._

_I don't want to buy into clichés, but have you ever looked at someone and just knew that you could fall in love with them?_

_I've never been in love, but coming to Paris was always about trying new things._

 

*****

 

Riley's been in Paris for three weeks before she realizes that she hasn't actually visited the Eiffel Tower.

She texts Maya about it immediately, and is surprised when a reply comes in not two minutes later.

 **[6:24AM] To: Maya**  
isn't it weird that i haven't been to the eiffel tower yet?

 **[6:25AM] From: Maya**  
you what!!!!!!!

 **[6:25AM] From: Maya**  
unacceptable!!!! we have to go now!!!!

 **[6:28AM] To: Maya**  
now????

 **[6:29AM] From: Maya**  
yes!!!! now!!!! get dressed i'll pick you up!

True to her word, when Riley exits her homestay apartment, Maya is waiting outside, blowing on her hands to keep them warm.

"The sun hasn't even risen yet," Riley hisses, aware that Paris is a lot more concentrated than New York, and people here actually sleep at night.

Maya scoffs, coming to stand behind her and pushing gently. "You haven't seen the Eiffel Tower! That's like the first place anyone visits! I'm taking you there right now."

Riley rolls her eyes but follows along, smiling at Maya's enthusiasm. It's nice being the mellow one for once, allowing herself to be dragged headfirst into an adventure that someone else has planned.

They silently, and unanimously, decide to walk instead of driving, and Riley spends the first two minutes having an internal debate on whether she should reach out and take Maya's hand.

There are obvious pros and cons associated with whatever decision she makes, but ultimately what wins is the fact that Riley wants to hold Maya's hand, and doing so will make her happy.

Riley's spent a good chunk of her life pandering to the whims of others, she figures she's allowed to be selfish, just this once.

To her credit, Maya hardly reacts, just squeezes Riley's fingers once before swinging their hands between them and continuing to talk about the frog she saw on the sidewalk two days ago.

There's a little patch of grass right in front of the Eiffel Tower, and that's where they decide to sit. The early morning air is crisp, and cool, and clean, washing across Riley's face when she tilts her head up toward the sky, squinting against the watery rays of sunlight that are emerging from the horizon.

Maya's already got her sketchbook out and, as Riley watches, pulls a pencil out of the front pocket of her satchel, sliding it behind her ear as she flips through pages and pages of drawings.

"You still haven't shown me any of them," Riley says softly, not wanting to break the silence, but finding that she has to. There is a restlessness about her that she has never felt before in her life, something that's urging her forward, pushing on the side of her ribcage and begging to be set free. Riley doesn't know what it is, not yet, but she's getting there, she can feel it.

"They're not done," Maya says, and it seems almost instinctive at this point, the same answer she always gives whenever Riley asks, voice tinged with mystery, and amusement, and something else, something that Riley cannot name, but still feels familiar. Maya reminds her of the streets she grew up on, the flickering streetlamps, and old storefronts, the pigeons that gathered on the sidewalk, blocking the path.

Riley huffs in faux exasperation, leaning forward to shove Maya gently on the shoulder so the other girl teeters backward for a second. "This feels supremely unfair."

Maya laughs, but makes no move to turn the sketchbook around, so Riley can't take a peak even though she really wants to. "Just let me finish them," she says, and Riley relents, falling quiet as Maya continues to sketch. Paris is quiet in the mornings, before anyone wakes up, before the day truly begins; the only thing Riley can hear is the gentle scratching of graphite on paper as Maya works, and the soft, lyrical lilt of birdsong that always seems to surround them when they're outside.

The sun has risen a little more now, gleaming off the brassy metal of the Eiffel Tower, and Riley has to shift so that it isn't shining in her eyes. Maya, who's sitting opposite her, doesn't have this issue, and Riley almost opens her mouth to make a complaint about it, stopping herself just before she says something. There is something delicate about this moment, something that she doesn't want to break. Maya sneaks glances at her every couple of seconds, presumably checking to see if she's drawn something right.

Riley, who has nothing else to give her attention to, simply sits and watches, admiring the way the growing sunlight outlines Maya in gold, tinting her messy blonde curls with a rosy pink hue and washing out the blues of her eyes, so much so that Riley is suddenly reminded of the ocean at night, dark, and enigmatic, and beautiful.

She doesn't realize she's crying until Maya is reaching out to wipe at her eyes.

"Riles? What's wrong?"

And Riley doesn't know how to explain that, for the first time in her life, nothing is wrong.

 

*****

 

_I love her. I love her. I love her._

 

*****

 

As it turns out, Riley's flight home is switched, at the last minute, to the night before Maya's art exhibition is set to open.

Her phone dings while they're sitting on a bench next to the Louvre, sharing a paper bag of churros, and she swipes at it to find an email from her professor back in New York; there's something about a miscalculation regarding travel insurance, but her gaze skips over the details of the mistake, instead focusing on the screenshot of her new ticket.

The elongated pause causes Maya to look up, angling her head so she can read the email over Riley's shoulder. Evidently, she understands immediately. "Oh, honey." Maya places the bag of churros down on the bench next to her and takes Riley's hand, squeezing gently. "It's alright, I'll just send you lots and lots of pictures!"

"I just- I mean, it feels important." Riley drops her phone into her lap, staring down at the screen. "I really wanted to go."

There's the sound of shuffling, the quiet scuff of sneakers on pavement, and then Maya's crouching down in front of her, reaching to take her other hand as well. "I know you did, but that email looked important."

"Probably not as important as your art show."

Maya laughs gently, tugging on Riley's fingers so that she'll look up. "It was definitely more important than my art show."

"I just feel like I'm letting you down somehow."

"You're not," Maya says insistently, "trust me, you're not."

There's a moment in which they just look at each other, and Riley finds that, for some inexplicable reason, she's fighting back tears. Maya seems to sense that, and when she next speaks, her voice is endlessly kind, so soft and yet so sad; Riley almost aches with the tenderness of it all.

"I guess you have to go home."

And Riley can't bring herself to say that home, for her, has become a beautiful girl with mountains of spirit and the prettiest blue eyes she's ever seen.

 

*****

 

_They say: if you love someone, let them go, and if they never come back, then they were never supposed to be yours in the first place._

_I always thought that made sense, that it was logical, and I still do, but now I know why some people hold on so tightly, why they refuse to let go._

_Paris was always meant to be a journey, a space for me to find myself, and I think I have, I think I've really come into my own._

_But I also found so much more, all the places I never thought I'd see, the people I never thought I'd meet._

_When I go back to New York, I will bring with me the experience of Paris, the weight of the air and the colours of the night. The cobblestone roads lined with flowers, and the tiny cafés around every corner. I will bring with me all that I can, but it won't be everything._

_Because there is a girl, as passionate as she is kind, who is, without a doubt, the beating heart of this quiet city._

_Maya is all the love that Paris can give._

 

*****

 

Riley has to catch an early morning flight, and the atmosphere of the airport makes it feel as if she's in a dream.

There aren't that many people around, and it doesn't take long for her to get her bags checked in, especially since she doesn't have that many things.

She's just tucking her passport back into her bag when someone clears their throat from behind her.

It's Maya, which shouldn't come as a surprise, but Riley finds herself smiling incredulously anyway.

"I thought you didn't do goodbyes?"

"I really don't," Maya says, though she's smiling, "but I figured after stewing in my apartment for three hours after a mostly sleepless night, I might as well get up and drive down here to see you off."

Riley's first reaction is concern. "You didn't sleep well?" She asks, brows furrowed, reaching out almost on instinct.

Maya huffs, fighting her way through a yawn. "I'm fine, don't worry. After the exhibit opens, I can sleep all I want."

"I'm so sorry I can't-"

"Nope! No apologies, especially not after I've told you a million times that it's okay." Maya stuffs her thumbs into the front pockets of her jeans, rocking back and forth on the heels of her well-worn, paint-splattered Chucks. "Some things are just out of our control."

The loudspeaker crackles and a voice speaks out in French, going through an entire announcement before repeating everything in English. Maya understands before Riley does, but it's the boarding call for the morning flight to New York.

"Hey, before you go." Maya's smiling in a quiet, melancholic way, and for the first time in her life, Riley knows what heartbreak looks like. "I just wanted to say thank you, for everything. I know it hasn't really been all that long, in the grand scheme of things, but believe me when I say that you've changed my life, in so many ways that I can't even begin to count them, but always for the better."

It is in this moment that Riley realizes she's not going to do this. She's not going to give up on something that hasn't even had the chance to begin, because there is happiness here, she can feel it.

So she gives in to instinct, follows her heart instead of her head, and leans in for a kiss.

Maya takes a step back.

Riley gets flustered immediately. "I- sorry! I must've read the situation wrong- oh god I'm so sorry-"

"No! No, you didn't." Maya keeps her distance, but her voice is nothing but sincere. "Trust me, you didn't."

"Then why-?"

"Honey, if you kiss me now then I will never be able to let you go. You'll miss your flight and probably get fined some ridiculous insurance fee because of it."

"I'm- what?"

Maya hums lowly, and she takes one careful step forward, but keeps her hands to herself. "Riley Matthews, I want nothing more in the world than to kiss you right now, but I can't, because you have to go back to New York, and I have to stay here."

"So, is that it? Are you just never going to kiss me?"

"What? No! Are you crazy? Of course I'm going to kiss you! Just, not now. Not yet."

"But you will? In the future? Like, the near future?"

"I'm sure I'll figure something out." Maya's smiling, that infuriating, crooked half-smile she always wears whenever she's got something up her sleeve. "I think you'll find that I can be surprisingly resourceful when I want to be."

Riley grins, giddy with happiness, and warm with hope. "Aren't I the luckiest girl alive, then?" Maya shoves her gently on the shoulder, and Riley uses the momentum to pull the other girl into a hug. "I can't wait."

 

*****

 

_And we're done._

_Three months really fly by when you're in the city you've wanted to visit since you were a child. I've had the greatest time in Paris, it's definitely an experience I will never forget._

_I think maybe, in life, you find people who are supposed to change you, and some of them are just here for a while, but some of them are here forever._

_It's time for a different kind of adventure, one that requires less of discovering myself, and more of realizing how I fit into the puzzle pieces of someone else's life. It's time for me to find out who I'm here to change._

_Paris is behind me, both physically and metaphorically, but I am not the same person I was when I first left New York, and that is something I will never lose._

_I've got so many stories to tell, and I know exactly where I'll start._

_There is a little café, on the corner of a quiet street, and that is where I met the girl of my dreams._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not exactly sure why I thought writing this would be a good idea, but it did make me very happy, so I suppose that's all that matters. As I said, the inspiration for this was [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/Bf0vGwtFJzB/?taken-by=sabrinacarpenter) photo that Sabrina posted on Instagram of her and Rowan being in Paris together, I saw it and something inside me just prompted the writing of this fic.
> 
> If anyone reading this is a scouting agent for a production company, or knows someone who has connections to one, I wasn't joking when I said I want to make this a movie. I'll write out an entire script, swap out the characters and everything, because this would be the softest movie ever and I want to make it happen.
> 
> You may find me on [Tumblr](http://taylorswift.co.vu) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/astralsapphics) if you wish to talk to me, I promise I don't bite. 
> 
> Title taken from an instrumental piece by the same name by Alan Gogoll, which I listened to while writing this (I've linked it in the author notes at the beginning) and the song that Maya sings in the car is [So This Is Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BocsmkKCHeo) from the Cinderella soundtrack.
> 
> Until next time, catch ya' on the flipside!


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